I Love You, William Darcy
by HermioneGirl96
Summary: A Lizzie Bennet Diaries fic. After Darcy's parents die, he rarely hears the words "I love you," so he treasures each declaration of affection all the more. This is a series of four vignettes featuring occasions when Fitz, Gigi, Lizzie, and Jane tell Darcy how much they care about him. Updated daily.
1. Fitz

Fitz was already at the restaurant when Darcy walked in at exactly 12:30. "Darcy, my man!" he exclaimed with all his usual ebullience.

"Fitz," Darcy returned levelly, giving his friend a small smile. "Why did you call this meeting? It's unlike you to make plans on such short notice."

Fitz's ebullience level dropped slightly, the Fitz version of nervousness. "I've met someone."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Would I be correct in assuming that you're using that phrase in its euphemistic sense?"

"It's not a euphemism! Dating isn't _bad_."

"It 'making love' is a euphemism for sex, then 'to meet someone' qualifies as a euphemism for dating."

"Fine. You win."

"So? Who is she?"

Fitz frowned. "That's . . . the reason I'm doing this in person. You see, this person is not a she."

Darcy blinked. "I see. Would I be correct to draw the conclusion that your announcement of your relationship is doubling as your coming out?"

"Yeah. And I understand if you're upset with me for not telling you earlier or if you don't—"

"Fitz. Does your boyfriend make you happy?"

It was Fitz's turn to blink. "Yeah."

"Then I see no reason for me to do anything other than congratulate you."

"Are you serious, man?"

"Of course. I may have lived with my Aunt Catherine for a couple of years, but that did not make me her ideological clone."

"Well, I know that, but—"

"Your happiness matters to me. Your sexuality does not."

"Wow. Thanks. That's awesome. I love you, man. I mean, um, not like that; that would be weird. But, um, I do. Just—"

Darcy smiled. "I understand. Thank you, Fitz. I love you too."

Fitz sighed with relief. "Thanks, man. It means a lot. Do you think Gigi will react this well?"

"She will be thrilled. She is much more adept than I am at social interactions, as you surely have noticed."

"I mean, will she be okay with me being gay?"

"She is not Aunt Catherine either. If anything, Gigi is more liberal than I am. She'll be happy as long as you are happy."

Fitz grinned widely.


	2. Gigi

"I hate you!" Gigi shrieked as soon as George was gone. "You're ruining my life!"

William sighed. "Actually, I believe I am _saving_ you from ruin."

Gigi let out a hysterical laugh. "As if. Why would you do that? It's not like you care about me."

"What? Gigi, of _course_ I care about you. You're my _sister_."

"Yeah, but you wish I weren't."

"That is ridiculous. I love you."

Gigi laughed again, still with a gleam in her eyes that was only half caused by tears. "Sure. William, you've made it very clear that you're ashamed of me and you wish we weren't related. 'Gigi, why don't you have an A in math?' 'Gigi, why haven't you made the swim team yet?' 'Gigi, your French is terrible. I cannot travel to France with someone who sounds so American.' 'Georgiana, I am very disappointed in you.' 'Georgiana, you are not good enough.' 'Georgiana, you are not worthy of being called a Darcy.' 'Georgiana, I wish you had never been born!'

"George at least loves me for who I am! He doesn't harp on me about my grades or constantly remind me of my inadequacy! And when he wants me to improve in some way, he _helps_ me with it—like with swimming. _He's_ the one who loves me and _you made him leave!_ "

"Gigi, George was manipulating you to take revenge on me."

"George would never do that!"

"I know it is difficult for you to acknowledge the truth now, but—"

"You're a liar! I don't have to listen to you!" With that, Gigi stormed off to her bedroom and slammed the door.

Gigi did not leave her bedroom for the rest of the afternoon. Around six o'clock, William ordered takeout from a nearby Chinese place Gigi liked. He wasn't hungry, and he suspected that neither was Gigi, but he knew in his head that they should both eat, and so he placed the order.

When the takeout arrived, Gigi bolted to the door at the sound of the doorbell. "Don't answer it!" she shrieked at William.

Gigi started crying as soon as she saw the delivery man. William paid for the food but did not take it to the kitchenette. Instead, he set the takeout bag on the floor and put an arm around Gigi.

"Get away from me!" she screamed. "You don't get to touch me! You're not him! You made him leave! I hate you! Go away!"

William retreated, pausing only to hand her the styrofoam container of her favorite type of chow mein.

"I don't want it," Gigi sobbed. "I don't want anything but George." She threw the container on the floor of the hallway and fled back to her room.

William did not eat that night. He cleaned up the mess of chow mein that Gigi had created, put the rest of the food in the refrigerator, and tried to get some sleep on the couch, but he spent most of the night pacing. He could hear Gigi's footsteps in the bedroom and knew that she was having a similar night. Sometime after midnight it occurred to him to email the vice president of Pemberley Digital to say that a family emergency was unfolding and he would be absent indefinitely.

He did not see Gigi again until around ten o'clock the next morning, when she stormed into the living room in yesterday's rumpled clothing and said, "You think I'm an object."

"Of course I don't think you're an object. You are a human being."

"But you _bought_ me."

"What?"

"Yesterday. You bought me from George."

"If you conceptualize the interaction as a transaction, then you must also believe that George sold you."

"But you were the one who brought money into it in the first place. You were the one who turned it into a transaction. We were all just arguing and then you got out your checkbook. Like, what is this, the Middle Ages? The Third World?"

"I was attempting to prove to you that George did not love you. Had he really loved you, he would not have abandoned you for any amount of money in the world."

"You can say that because we've always been rich. It's different for George. He needs the money—especially since _you_ refused to fund him to go to college."

"He had all the funds he needed. That he squandered them is none of my affair."

"People make mistakes, William! Why do you have to hold everyone up to your ridiculous, unrealistic standards all the time?"

William sighed. "I am sorry that I made you feel inadequate. You are more than good enough. You always have been and you always will be. And my expectations of George were neither ridiculous nor unrealistic."

"You're impossible." Gigi stomped her foot and then stormed back to her room.

William ate that night for the first time since arriving at Gigi's. He managed a few hours of sleep now that he had food in his stomach, although his rest was marred by nightmares that were all too similar to reality. The next morning, he brought Gigi a bowl of cereal with milk in a glass rather than in the cereal bowl. He was not surprised when Gigi refused to answer his knock at her bedroom door; he merely stated that the food would be on the threshold when she wanted it. When he picked up the empty bowl and glass several hours later, he suggested through the door that the two of them fly to Aspen.

"No," was Gigi's curt reply.

"Why not?"

"One, because I'm staying here until George comes back to me, and two, because I'm never going anywhere with you ever again."

"He will not come back for you, Gigi. I know it's hard for you to accept, but—"

"Shut up."

"Gigi, you have to admit that—"

"Shut up!"

The next five days were similar. Finally, on the eighth day since William's arrival, Gigi shuffled out into the living room. She was still wearing the same clothes she had worn when William had found her with George (or rather, the clothes she had thrown on hastily when William had appeared on the scene), and the bags under her eyes were so large and dark that it looked as though she had been punched in the face twice. The rest of her complexion was paler than William had ever seen it.

"He's not coming back to me," Gigi whispered, but her voice caught on the last word and she started crying. "He's not coming back. He's not—Goddamnit George I love you and you swore you loved me too!" Her voice had crescendoed to a shouted sob.

William stood and approached his sister, arms outstretched. He stopped in front of her and eyed her warily. "Do you want—"

Gigi collapsed into his arms and sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Gigi," William whispered over and over. "I love you."

It took half an hour for Gigi to stop crying, but finally she sat up and said, "Fine. We can go to Aspen. But I still hate you."

The Darcys stored extra clothes at their lodge in Aspen, so Darcy called the lodge's caretakers to request that they make the beds and stock the refrigerator and pantry, and then he and Gigi caught the next flight because they didn't need to pack. By nightfall, the siblings were ensconced in their spacious, secluded mountain resort. Gigi had managed to make it through the flight without crying. The two went to bed early—William was glad to have his own bedroom here, after sleeping on the couch for a week at Gigi's condominium—but, around two o'clock in the morning, Gigi burst into William's room and woke him up. She had finally changed out of her week-old clothes and into pajamas.

"George didn't love me, did he?"

"I'm sorry, Gigi."

"That's why he took the check. That's why he didn't come back to me. That's why he hasn't answered any of my texts since he left. He never loved me, did he?" She was crying again. "But why didn't he love me? Why wasn't I good enough for him? I loved him! I still love him! Why have I never been good enough for anybody?"

"You are good enough for me, Gigi. You always have been and you always will be. _You are good enough._ "

"Why does my life have to fall to pieces for you to say that?"

"I'm sorry, Gigi. I didn't know that you needed to hear it. I have not been attentive. I didn't mean to hurt you but I know I should have tried harder. I'll attempt to make amends going forward."

"But why doesn't George love me?"

"His failures have nothing to do with you. I promise."

Gigi fell on top of William for the second time in twelve hours and cried. Eventually she cried herself to sleep and William was left holding her heavy, limp form and trying not to wake her. Several hours later, William awoke to find Gigi extricating herself from his twin bed. She fiddled with her pajama shirt to avoid looking at him as she muttered, "Thanks."

The rest of the morning was silent, but something had shifted in the air. There was less tension, less anger. Instead there was quiet and sadness and maybe, just maybe, love. Gigi allowed William to fetch her lunch and draw her out onto the patio to eat.

"What am I going to do?" Gigi whispered midway through the hitherto silent meal.

"Whatever you need," William answered softly. "You can take a semester off. I looked at UCLA's policy and the paperwork for it is quite simple. I'll fill it out for you if you like. We can stay here in Aspen for as long as you need."

"Don't you have to get back to Pemberley Digital?"

"My vice president is more than capable of handling matters. Besides, it's been a long time since I took a vacation—too long, I am coming to realize. I am yours for as long as you need me."

"But why?"

"Because you are more important than my board meetings."

"Even now that you know what an idiot I am?"

"Gigi, you are not an idiot."

"I thought George loved me, William. How much stupider can you get?"

"It wasn't stupidity. I failed to provide you with the love and affirmation you needed, and so you found someone who could. None of this is your fault."

Gigi shook her head. "You're lying."

William stood, walked to Gigi's chair, and squatted beside it. "You know how honest I am."

"But I fell for him! I trusted him and believed him and _I was in love with him!_ What kind of person falls for such a douchebag?"

William took Gig's hand. "Someone who has been without tenderness for far too long."

Gigi squeezed her eyes shut tight. "Goddamnit, William . . ."

"I'm sorry, Gigi."

"No, not you, just—"

William stood, keeping hold of Gigi's hand. "Would you like to go inside?"

Gigi nodded, tears seeping from her eyes, and let herself be led from the patio into the high-ceilinged great room. The siblings sat on the leather couch and William stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the surrounding mountains as he stroked his sister's hair. "I love you, Gigi," he whispered.

"How can you, when I'm so stupid and cause you so much inconvenience?"

"This is not an inconvenience, Gigi. This is atonement for my past harm and antipathy."

Gigi's only response was to cry for another hour. William rubbed her hair and back awkwardly. He had not inherited their mother's gift for comforting.

When Gigi finally stopped crying and retreated to her bedroom, assuring him that she'd be fine and she wanted to be alone, William seized the opportunity to make some business calls and check his email. His vice president was doing an admirable job, and William was pleased to realize that there were no major fires he needed to put out. Nevertheless, there was enough business to take care of that he was occupied until five o'clock, and then he made some dinner.

When he was finished cooking, he called Gigi to the table. She had showered since lunch and had put on makeup for the first time in over a week. William had never seen her wear gold eyeshadow before—she'd always gone for pinks and purples, but this looked good.

"Gigi! You look nice."

Gigi shrugged. "At some point I'm going to have to rejoin the normal world. I may as well start trying to figure out who I want to be going forward. I can't be the same person I have been, that's for sure."

William blinked. "Wow. You sound much . . . better than you did a few hours ago."

"I think nine days is about my limit for continuous despair."

William winced, remembering the weeks after their parents' deaths. "That _is_ a pattern with you, I suppose."

"Sorry," Gigi whispered.

William forced a smile. "No need to apologize."

This time it was Gigi's turn to take her sibling's hand. "You know I love you too, right, William?"

William let out a breath. "Thank you, Gigi. I think we can do this."

Gigi smiled for the first time in nine days. "I think so too."


	3. Lizzie

After Lizzie turned off the camera, she lunged at Darcy again and kissed him even more enthusiastically than she had when the camera had been rolling. He responded breathlessly, passionately, deliriously. Part of him was still in shock, but that part luckily did not include his tongue or his lips, which were working perfectly and setting off a deluge of endorphins in his brain. He had never been this happy. Lizzie's mouth on his was everything he'd been missing in the long, frigid years since his parents' deaths, and he was intent on keeping this sensation as long as he was allowed.

It was several minutes before the two broke apart. When they finally separated, Lizzie whispered, "Wow."

"Wow," Darcy agreed.

Lizzie inclined her forehead toward Darcy's until the two were in contact and then shook her head gently, rubbing their noses together. "Who would have thought, huh?"

"Even my dreams were never this good," Darcy breathed back.

Then Lizzie kissed him again and the shock was gradually replaced by bliss. He tangled his fingers in her hair and ran his hands over her lacy sleeves while she undid the buttons on his vest.

"This is not a private room, is it?" Darcy murmured the next time the two broke apart. It took all the presence of mind he still had just to utter the words.

"Oh, God, you're right," said Lizzie. "We should take this to my room." She picked up her laptop and led the way.

It was strange for Darcy to see the space where so many of Lizzie's videos had been filmed, although the effect was mitigated by the huge aquarium where the bookshelf should have been. A plump middle-aged woman was seated cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed. Lizzie went stiff when she noticed the woman and then tiptoed to the bed and set her laptop there. Just as she turned to leave, the woman opened her eyes.

"Now Elizabeth," said the woman in a breathy southern voice uncannily similar to Lizzie's impressions, "I told you not to come in here while I'm meditating!"

"Sorry, Mom. I was just dropping some stuff off before leaving with Dar—Mr. Darcy."

"Now why would you go anywhere with that Mr. Darcy? He was always so rude and arrogant . . ."

Darcy managed to retreat from the room and out of sight while hastily re-buttoning his vest.

"Actually, Mom, Mr. Darcy's gotten a lot nicer lately and he's invited me out for a birthday celebration. I'll be back pretty late, so you don't need to wait up."

"Oh! Well, in that case, stay out all night! Remember, Mr. Darcy is a rich, handsome young man, and he won't stay single forever! You should try to catch him while you can."

"Will do, Mom." Lizzie exited the room a moment later bearing a large purse. She made a face at Darcy and motioned for him to follow her back downstairs. "So you see I wasn't exaggerating. Or at least, I wasn't exaggerating _much_."

"I'm sorry that she associates me with arrogance."

"Don't worry about it. She cares much more that you're rich and handsome, so it shouldn't be too hard to win her over. She doesn't hold grudges nearly as long as I do." They had reached the bottom of the stairs. Lizzie turned to face Darcy. "I was almost impossible, wasn't I?"

Darcy stepped forward and kissed Lizzie briefly. "You were worth the wait."

"God, just when I think you can't get any more romantic . . ."

Darcy flushed a dull shade of pink. "Given that your room is occupied, do you have a plan?"

"I was actually kind of hoping _you'd_ think of something."

"Well, Bing did give me the keys to Netherfield, if that—ahem—gives you any ideas. Unfortunately, I took a taxi from the airport, so—"

"My car. Now."

Darcy grabbed his luggage from where he had left it beside the front door and the two half-ran to Lizzie's car. No sooner were they inside it than they descended into another round of frantic kissing, and Lizzie undid all the buttons that Darcy had so recently refastened. Finally, Lizzie pulled away and said, "You know, this would be a lot more comfortable somewhere else."

"I apologize. Have I—"

"No, not like that. Just, we should get to Netherfield." Lizzie started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

"I had never seen you drive before," Darcy remarked after a few minutes of giddy silence. "You are even more graceful and assured than I anticipated."

"You really are intent on the compliments, aren't you?"

"Are they too much?"

"No! Calm down, okay? You don't need to worry about offending me every time you open your mouth. I just . . . wow. I never expected to get so many compliments in so little time, especially not from you, the guy with the accomplishments checklist. I'm surprised. In a good way."

"What can I do but give praise when confronted with your excellence?"

"You know you make me want to swoon when you say stuff like that, right?"

"Not while driving, I hope."

"Let's just say it's a good thing we're almost there."

"A very good thing."

"You have no idea how sexy your voice is, do you?"

"Oh. Um, I suppose I must answer in the negative."

"Yeah, it'd be a little weird if you _did_ know . . . Did your previous girlfriends ever tell you?"

Darcy laughed humorlessly. "No, they most certainly did not. I doubt anyone has considered me sexy prior to you, in fact."

"What? That's impossible."

"Please consider that the few people who have previously had the misfortune of dating me did so prior to the maturation that your videos forced upon me."

Lizzie parked in the Netherfield driveway and kissed Darcy hard. "You weren't the only one who needed to mature."

"Perhaps." Darcy undid his seatbelt and exited the car. Lizzie followed. They managed to get through various dark halls of Netherfield to the room that Darcy had used during his summer stay. And then they were grappling on the bed, with Lizzie making quick work of Darcy's remaining buttons and Darcy kissing Lizzie's neck. He reached for the hem of her dress and managed to mutter, "May I?"

"Please," Lizzie groaned.

Soon the two were down to their underclothes and under the covers. They didn't strip completely; all they really wanted to do this first night was kiss. So they did—they kissed one another's faces, necks, shoulders, backs, and torsos. It was nearly impossible to tell how long this went on, but after what could have been centuries or mere minutes the two rolled onto their backs and just lay contently in each other's presence.

"I love you, William Darcy," Lizzie breathed.

Darcy rolled onto his side to face her. "I love you too, Lizzie Bennet." He let out a breath. "I was not expecting that."

"What, you think I let men hijack my birthday and take me to dark empty houses when I think they're just kind of okay?"

"Of course not. I would never—"

"You're going to need to learn how to tell when I'm teasing."

"I will do my best."

Lizzie smiled and nuzzled her head into Darcy's chest. "I have no doubt."


	4. Jane

Darcy wasn't expecting a call from Jane. He'd just talked to her, after all, when he and Lizzie had phoned her and Bing to tell them about the engagement. Jane had sounded thrilled at the time, but seeing her name on his phone screen made Darcy's heart race. Had she hidden her reservations about the marriage earlier to protect Lizzie's feelings? Had something awful just happened to Bing?

Darcy picked up his phone and greeted Jane in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

"Darcy!" Jane trilled in response. "I just wanted to thank you privately for being so wonderful to my sister."

"Oh. Thank you. I assure you that she deserves all my efforts and more."

"She is wonderful, but she can be a little difficult to get along with sometimes, and I know she was hard on you when you two first met. I'm glad you were able to move past that and become a couple, because you really are perfect for her."

Darcy cleared his throat. "Thank you. I'm grateful for your approval of our engagement."

"I'm so happy that you're going to be my brother-in-law!"

"I am glad to be joining the Bennet family, as well."

"Good! We all love you, so we're very glad you're finally going to be part of the family."

"You . . . what?"

"We love you, of course! I thought we'd mentioned it before. Bing has loved you for years, of course, and Lydia and Dad have since the moment they found out you took down the website, and our mom and I have since you and Lizzie started dating. You've done so much for our family, and it's obvious that you're perfect for Lizzie—we couldn't help loving you."

"Oh. Well, thank you. I love you all as well."

"I should let you go—I'm sure you and Lizzie have more people to tell and lots of celebrating to do. I just wanted to tell you how much it means to me and to all of us in the Bennet family that you are so good to Lizzie."

"Thank you, Jane. Your support means a lot as well."


End file.
